Their Tender Little Child
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: The worlds converged on their research, but perhaps not the way they had thought.
1. Her Baby, Their Baby

**A/N:** This entire collection is written for the Flt Event, event 1: "**write a series of drabbles or flash fiction pieces that together tell a larger story**. Bonus points if your drabbles are written out of chronological order/follow a nonlinear timeline, or if they aren't plot-compliant with each other but still tell a cohesive story (by sharing the same theme, etc.). The drabbles/flash fictions should each be between 100 and 400 words long."

Also, this particular poem is written for the Freeverse Frenzie competition on the HPFC forum, poem 16, and for the 5,10,20,50,70,100 fandoms challenge, fandom 52.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
1. Her Baby, Their Baby**

He was such a tender little child  
in her arms

And she didn't want to let  
him go.  
It was laughable, really –  
oh how she could laugh  
had she been  
back in her college days  
where the mere thought  
was nothing but a crazy little dream

Amidst a larger dream  
of finding another world…

But dreams did come true,  
or were coming true

Because she was well set  
upon that goal,  
in the smallest world there was:  
smaller than the atoms themselves  
that sped about  
and turned a larger world

But there were other worlds as well,  
and it was that which she now held,  
her papers left at work

For her husband had left his desk  
as well that day

To welcome the tender little bundle  
called their son.


	2. Two Brothers

**A/N:** This particular poem is written for the Freeverse Frenzie competition on the HPFC forum, poem 17.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
2. Two Brothers**

Everyone always said  
they were an odd pair  
and they were –

There was no denying that

But what did it matter  
to them?  
Eccentrics were a part of their trade  
and all the better  
when it kept other noses out.

They were fond of their privacy,  
the pair of them

And their friend and colleague and boss  
who'd taken two lost boys in  
and showed the path again.

Books and teachings were enough  
a companion to them  
and the dregs in coffee cups

Until the beaming boss' wife  
refilled them of course,  
because it wouldn't do to fall asleep  
when the world raced on.

They were supposed to be looking for a way  
to grasp that world.

And they'd start  
after they found that fork  
in the road.

Before that  
they were just following  
hand in hand  
behind the other.


	3. Buried in Work

**A/N:** This particular poem is written for the Freeverse Frenzie competition on the HPFC forum, poem 18.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
3. Buried in Work**

He shook his head  
and a sled of papers  
slid to the floor.

His wife was there  
to pick them up for him.

And then they'd go flying again  
because there was _just too much_  
and yet he couldn't find a thing of use  
in them

And he'd sigh and take his glasses off  
and start cleaning up instead

And find an old coffee-cup  
under extensive calculations  
and shallow-scribbled notes  
or a tie he'd cast off  
long ago  
or some photos and half-finished letters  
under the desk or in some drawer

And he'd put them away again,  
thinking he'll have a world of time  
to follow,

As he stuck his nose in his papers again.


	4. Carbon Copy

**A/N:** This particular poem is written for the Freeverse Frenzie competition on the HPFC forum, poem 18.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
4. Carbon Copy**

He looked just like his father.

Already, a little tuft of black hair  
could be seen  
and the brown-haired mother laughed  
and spiked it up

Because he really did look like his father.

She even had baby photos as proof  
from in-laws that had long since passed away –  
but their memories remained  
and one day she spread those photos out

Along with the new ones she had took,  
of her happy little boy shining bright  
for the camera's lens  
and trying to bite it open  
if she left it too close  
as all teething babies tended to do

And her husband came home that night  
blushing like a child  
as she "awwed" and "aahed" at the pair  
they made  
and their baby just oogled away  
in his cot.


	5. Baby-Sitter

**A/N:** This particular poem is written for the Freeverse Frenzie competition on the HPFC forum, poem 19.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
5. Baby-Sitter**

He hadn't realised being a baby-sitter  
was written in the fine-print  
but apparently it was

Or his brother was using older-brother privileges  
to get out of it.

Rex found though he didn't mind  
because the bundle he'd been handed  
was too cute to deny

And his tie old and frayed,  
so what did it matter of baby-drool  
led to more decay?

And even if his brother's lip curled  
at the sight, he couldn't stop  
the cheesy grins and foolish words  
that tumbled from his lips…

That little kid  
really did make his heart melt.

He wondered if, when baby-sounds became words  
he'd become "Uncle Rex"…

And when he'd signed up for the job  
his only thought was the addition  
of "Doctor" to his name.


	6. Yusei

**A/N:** This particular poem is written for the Freeverse Frenzie competition on the HPFC forum, poem 21.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
6. Yusei**

It was a surprise –  
but a welcome one –  
when she learnt of what  
she carried  
in her womb.

He was happy too.

But it was a flurry of panic  
that followed afterwards.  
Their first child…  
what were they to do?

They knew it was a boy at least  
and it was amusing enough to watch  
a father-to-be struggle with curtains  
when he'd spent the last few years  
working with things too small to see.

And oh how he fussed about his wife,  
to the point where she sent him back to work  
in no uncertain terms, then wondered  
what to eat…

And the names; one watching them would have laughed  
at the names they found,  
as different as suns and moons they were

But the one they settled on  
was a simple one indeed.  
And so Yusei he was:  
the planetary particle that ran the world  
in his father's lab  
and at home.


	7. Cast Aside

**A/N:** This particular poem is written for the Freeverse Frenzie competition on the HPFC forum, poem 22.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
7. Cast Aside**

Their work was suddenly cast aside.

Neither of them understood it.  
One could not accept it.

He raged and tore his papers to shreds  
then cello-taped them back together,  
careful of the scraps  
so eager to abandon him  
for the breeze.

The other was more compliant;  
silent, he stood behind the man  
who had brought them so far  
only to turn.

'It's over,' he said,  
'we can't go on.'

There had to be a reason  
and there was.

Shock was what he saw  
and felt, as the Doctor turned to him  
and said:

'It'll destroy us all.'

'Destroy us all,' he was told,  
and he told his brother too…  
but the man just cackled and said:  
'Isn't that what we do?'


	8. Their Goal

**A/N:** This particular poem is written for the Freeverse Frenzie competition on the HPFC forum, poem 23.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
8. Their Goal**

Their goal was lost  
so easily,  
before it had even begun  
to grow.

Nothing like that blundering babe  
the Doctor's wife now held.

His brother didn't see,  
deluded in the glamour  
of good –

But science wasn't meant for good!  
Couldn't he see?!

Science, science was meant to further the world,  
not humanity – and certainly not the strings  
of feelings the wind danced upon.

He hadn't thought the Doctor's heart  
was such a feeble thing:

A wife, and a child on the way  
had made his lip curl  
in disgust…

But this?  
This was unacceptable

And even his brother chose  
to roll down and die  
he did not:  
he would salvage what he could  
and grasp the final straw

Before the wind  
swept that up as well.


	9. Motherly Distractions

**A/N:** This particular poem was written for the Freeverse Frenzie Competition, poem 25.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
9. Motherly Distractions**

He really was the most distracting  
little thing, and yet  
she couldn't help but be  
distracted by him.

It was even worse than a childhood crush –  
even more so since she had long  
since married the man  
of her desires.

It really was a fairytale  
sometimes…  
a happy little ending:  
the mother, father and sweet little child  
to go on forever.

And she had all the time in the world  
with him, for those changes are so slow:  
tickling his toes and listening to the peals  
of laughter that followed…

She could fall asleep listening to those  
peals die down  
and find her husband dallying behind as well.

Well, it was a good thing she supposed  
that they had some hired help,  
otherwise she would play with her child forever  
and never get anything done.


	10. Baby Crying

**A/N: **This particular poem was written for the Freeverse Frenzie Competition, poem 26.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
10. Baby Crying**

There weren't many things  
that could tear her from those cries  
of her adorable little child  
in need

For food,  
a change,  
a nap,  
or maybe just some well-meant  
attention

But her husband's howl of pain and anger  
was one of those few things

And so she went to him,  
leaving the child to occupy himself  
with the armaments of his crib.

Her husband glanced at her  
as she approached  
but did not do much more.

Instead he turned back,  
and she followed,

To the crying babe once more,  
and she held her husband  
and he their son…

A family, where their comfort  
was so heavily built  
and they, the three of them,  
all basked  
in its silent glow

For a long moment more  
before their baby cried again  
and the adults spoke.


	11. Ignorance is Bliss

**A/N:** This particular poem was written for the Freeverse Frenzie Competition, poem 27.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
11. Ignorance is Bliss**

His life's work had been overturned  
in a single moment of discovery

And oh how he wished  
he could turn back the hands of time  
or the motion of those particles  
his world had begun  
to revolve around

But it was impossible: that time was gone,  
never to return, and now he faced a different task:

To put an end to the tower's trek  
that had once led to Heaven's base  
but was rapidly descending back  
and down – further down –  
to pierce the Hell fires deep below –

He couldn't say _how_ it had come to this  
but he had; how his hope to help mankind  
had shattered in his face.

How could it – the thing that pushed them on –  
turn on them like this? Those planetary particles  
that had so carefully built the world  
with its bonds – now

Shattered.  
Destroyed.  
Gone.

And worst, was that it was impossible to undo  
or forget, so the mark was always there,  
teasing, beckoning with its hideous back…

And when he realised that face wasn't so hideous to everyone  
it was nearly too late.


	12. Zero Reverse

**A/N:** This particular poem was written for the Freeverse Frenzie Competition, poem 28. And that concludes this collection: a mix of cute family drabbles and the darker undertones of Zero Reverse. This one probably has the most pre-empting towards the first season of 5Ds.

* * *

**Their Tender Little Child  
12. Zero Reverse**

All of them had lost control  
of their dream

And with one mistake  
it was all gone.

Destroyed.

Nothing left.

There was barely a moment before.

Rudger had barely left the controls  
before he was gone –  
not even a pile of dust  
to mark his place of being  
or a cry  
for his death.

The good Doctor, who'd had his child  
in his arms at the time,  
sent the boy away  
in a feverish prayer  
of haste:  
a shuttle that shot into the skies  
before he had no sight –

And his wife was doing her part  
to fix the calamity:  
her hand was on the door, sending  
the last of them, with his wings  
and well wishes for the future  
before she too was gone

And the last of them all ran  
like the hounds of hell behind  
barely lagging on their tails.  
In one hand he clutched their hope;  
the other his bike's controls

But the wind of destiny  
had more resource than him  
and they stole that hope away,  
taking to the sky  
and into the hands  
of other, worthy, kin

And he spent the next  
twenty years or so  
salvaging those remains  
of a world long gone.


End file.
